The Sand Hill Review          http://www.sandhillreview.org       2001 November

 

Anchor

 

I put my hand on my heart,

each warms the other, each knows

the warmth of two, but the hand

is the cooler partner.  The hand is a door,

the heart a room I could live in.

 

I feel the earth beneath me,

I listen to it breathe.

The wind ripples the leaves,

the song sparrows and towhees

scutter and peck.

 

While the drops of yesterday’s rain

work their way down through soil

to bedrock, my body learns

to forget all those years I tried

to live anywhere but in this body.

 

I put my hand on my heart.

For a moment my body forgets

what it needs to forget,

and I think I could always

be this kind

 

Len Anderson